So, I’m finally entering the blog world after a long-term love affair with pen and paper. I thought it only fitting, after my father’s death this past December, and our celebration of Father’s Day this past weekend, that my first post be a writing inspired by him (many many years ago).
When I was a little girl, I remember going on many road trips with my family. We traveled to see the grandparents nearly once a month, and we visited our camp at the lake quite often, as well. There were also those summer vacations in the mountains of Colorado. My sister and I became familiar with the backseat of our Oldsmobile, and I’m certain we each knew exactly where that imaginary life was drawn, dividing her side and mine. I have many memories of our time spent on the road traveling as a family. We played a lot of different games, but my favorite would have to be “I Spy.” Of course, that game loses some of its excitement when the color is always green. We talked and ate, but we ate more than we talked. And when we could think of nothing else to do, we would give in to exhaustion and fall asleep, our tiny heads propped against the windows, vibrating with the motion of the car.
There were times I would awaken from my nap to find that a terrible storm had nearly overtaken our car. The rain beat so heavily upon the windshield that everything in view was nothing more than a blur. The wind howled as it blew debris across the road. But never do I remember waking up in fear. I was never afraid of the storm because I was tucked away safely in our car with the security of my father at the wheel. As far as I was concerned, my dad was invincible and so there was nothing to worry about as long as he was driving. My young and naive mind did not believe he was capable of having an accident because, after all, he was my daddy.
It was not until recently that I realized the tremendous spiritual lesson portrayed in these childhood memories. As I have traveled the road of life, I have encountered inevitable storms along the way. And this time, those storms produced fear. I have discovered that regardless of where the fear originates, the result is always the same: it cripples and sometimes even paralyzes the otherwise carefree spirit. But fear is not the way of the Father. It is His desire that we nestle down in His back seat, filled with the peace that accompanies His presence. He longs for us to trust Him so deeply that we can sleep, knowing that He never does. What could I possibly be afraid of as long as my Heavenly Daddy’s driving?
“When I am afraid, I will trust in You.” Psalm 56:1
“The LORD is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear?” Psalm 27:1